


Ice Water and Raindrops

by tylerno



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gay Keith (Voltron), Gen, Hurt Lance (Voltron), Hurt/Comfort, Lance (Voltron) Whump, Lance (Voltron) is a Mess, Lance Angst, Langst, Lesbian Pidge, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, This whole thing is just me being edgy because it wasn't a phase mom, Whump, basically lance is really sad and keith comforts him, crying lance, he can't really help it :/, klance, klangst, lance is just a sad boi, pidgey has a girlfriend, really just angst, sometimes vice versa, the paladins are really supportive
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-26
Updated: 2018-11-01
Packaged: 2019-07-17 09:01:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16092377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tylerno/pseuds/tylerno
Summary: "It's just... sometimes... I get the feeling that there's no point.""No point to what?""Me."





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [the people who cry alone at night](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=the+people+who+cry+alone+at+night).



Lance always loved playing guitar.

Sure, it was one of the more popular instruments for guys that sat around campfires singing about their feelings, but it truly helped. Whenever he was down, he'd go to his guitar. Whenever he had a bad day, the guitar was always there for him.

He supposed the callouses had come in handy, but they were all he had left of the instrument at this point. He wasn't sure it was even in one piece anymore, or if his Mama had kept it, or if...

Well, he didn't know, but he did know that whenever he pondered on it, the entire day seemed to go south, so he avoided that train of thought.

Every night, he'd listen to music on Pidge's headphones. Sometimes it'd be whatever dubstep she was into before they all left Earth, and sometimes it'd be the rock music that Keith had introduced to Matt, who had introduced it to Pidge, who had introduced it to Lance. It really wasn't bad. He wasn't picky. But his favorite songs the ones with guitar. He'd spend his free time trying to figure out what chords they were, and how he might replicate the strumming pattern.

He was a pretty good guitarist, and had an alright voice, in his opinion. But things like that weren't useful in an intergalactic space war against a tyrannic species whose sole intent is ruling the universe.

So. Guitar: the most useless skill he could have learned.

All the same, he couldn't stop himself from buying a guitar (which they had taken the strings off of and tried to sell them as the universe's thinnest knives) being advertised as a stylistic coffin from the Earth store in the space mall.

Pidge hadn't said a word when he had pocketed some coins, nor did she speak when he told her to go ahead. He was sure she knew, though; he hadn't exactly been subtle with all his staring and spacing off in the general guitar area.

He asked Allura that night if the walls were soundproof.

"Ew, Lance, why d'you wanna know?" Hunk had asked, wrinkling his nose. Allura was nodding, while Shiro just sighed and continued staring out into space. 

What hurt the most, though, was probably Keith giving him the stink-eye from the corner. As if Lance was the dirtiest thing he had ever set eyes on.

"Oh, you know," Lance crooned, trying to hide the wobble in his voice. "Stuff. And things. So, are they?"

Pidge was still pretending to type away at her computer, but Lance noticed that none of her fingers really pressed down the keys. She was listening. Coran was off somewhere, but no one knew where. The guy was hard to keep track of.

Allura rolled her eyes, turning back to her console. Lance ignored the spear of pain in his chest- did they really think so little of him?- and instead just shrugged uncaringly and turned away. "Well, whatever. I'm gonna go-"

But his proclamation is never finished, because then the castle's alarm systems were going off, and everyone was already dashing to their lions. 

Lance hesitated for a moment- _they'd be fine without you_ \- before following. He was glad that he had changed into his paladin armor for training earlier, because now it would be a much shorter wait time between now and fighting.

Lance whooped and hollered the whole time (because he was Lance; what else would he do?), but no one noticed him go ominously quiet after Keith had to push him out of the way of a particularly well-aimed laser. 

No one noticed, and no one complained. The only words addressed to him the rest of the time were barked orders for after they had formed Voltron.

But that was fine. Everyone had always said Lance was too loud.

When they landed back at the Castle of Lions and they were all convened in one spot, Allura met them, smile on her face.

"Congratulations on another victory, paladins," she said in that accent of hers, accepting a hug from Hunk. Hunk gave the best hugs. 

"Pidge, you were looking quite nice with your form today," she praised, "and Shiro, you made all the right decisions. Keith is faster than ever, and Hunk, thank you for protecting Pidge. With your sturdy lion, it's the best choice."

Each person puffed up or straight out smiled as she praised them, and Keith even went so far as to uncross his arms. Crazy.

Lance, knowing that today he had blundered a bit but still wanting to feel validated, gestured to himself with a quirked brow.

"What about me, princess? What heroics did I perform that you're proud of?"

Allura's brow furrowed, unperturbed by the question (because again, it was Lance) but still struggling. But before she could answer, Keith spoke up.

"I had to  _save_ you out there, Lance. I don't think you deserve senseless praise."

Lance wilts. Fists curl.

"Oh. Okay. I'll just... I'm gonna take a nap. See you guys later."

No one stops him when he walks away, and only Keith sees the harsh look that Pidge sends him.

The second Lance is out of the room, four resounding  _whacks_ can be heard, followed by an indignant squawk from Keith. "HEY!"

:: ::

That night, Lance played his guitar. He could only hope that Keith (in the next room over) couldn't hear him. The next morning, the very same neighbor paladin was looking at Lance in a way that he had never been looked at before.

After that, Lance didn't play his guitar again. At least, not in his room.


	2. 2

Hunk was worried about Lance. (Well, everyone was, but Hunk was the most obvious/vocal about it.) A testimony to his concern, when everyone woke up, he was already in the "kitchen," cooking away with the ferocity of the chefs of Chopped, or maybe Cutthroat Kitchen. Hunk loved those shows. Sometimes, back at the Garrison when they had a day off, he'd make Lance watch them with him. The guy always complained, but by halfway through the first episode, was more invested and engaged than Hunk himself.

Remembering that made Hunk's arm work harder at stirring the mix in the bowl. Pidge, from her seat on the counter and eating a steak that tasted like caramel, furrowed her brows concernedly. "Hunk, you're getting mix  _everywhere_."

He looked down to see that, sure enough, the tops of his shoes, as well as the floor, were coated in a luminescent blue-purple sludge that Hunk thought tasted rather like cinnamon rolls. He was planning to make cupcakes (?) with them. "Oh," said he, "I guess I am."

Pidge popped the bone into the trash, licking the grease from her fingers with a twisted face, like the taste confused her. After thoroughly cleaning her fingers, she hopped from the counter, landing messily on her feet. It was still rather early in the morning, and the only other person up was probably Shiro, and maybe Keith. Well, probably everyone was awake but Lance (and Coran, because despite the guy being the most energetic on board, he was also the heaviest sleeper).  

With quiet steps and a worried face, she approached the taller boy and placed one (small) hand on his forearm, the very same that was clutching the bowl as if it was his lifeline. Hunk paused at the contact, forcing his eyebrows to unfurrow. He didn't look at Pidge, though.

"Yeah, I know, I should probably relax," he groaned, "but I'm just so worried about him, man. I-I mean, of course, he can handle himself, but should I go check on him? What if he's like, I dunno, seriously not okay?" He lifted his spoon to wave it around in the air, accidentally getting a bit of mix in his hair. He didn't notice.

"Hunk," Pidge started, but was cut off. 

"I've known him for  _how long_? I should've gone after him, and... talked to him or something? I shouldn't tell you this, but he used to... hurt himself. When he was down. What if he's relapsing? I'm going to check on him-"

He slammed the bowl upon the counter, turning partway on his heel, before Pidge tightened her clutch on his arm. "Hunk, no. Listen to me. In the state you are now, you'll only freak him out. He'll feel guilty for making you worry and retreat behind his stupid jokes and pick-up line or whatever. Take a deep breath. If you really want to help, he appreciates your food a lot. Finish that. Give it to him."

Hunk heaved a giant breath, stammering, then finally relaxed under her grip. "Yeah. You're right. I know you're right, it's just... Could you check on him for me? Please?"

At this, Pidge was the one hesitating. "Hunk, I don't know. I'm not very good with people, Lance included- Stop making that face. What are you doing? Puppy eyes won't work on me."

Hunk persevered, clasping his hands and giving her the most pitiful face he could. Pidge sucked in a breath, nibbling on her lip, then let all the air out from her lungs in one big rush of air.

"Fine. I'll go. But there's no guarantee that I'll do any good."

Despite her warning, Hunk was scooping her up in a hug (her feet stopped touching the floor, because Pidge), and she was wrapping her arms partway around his back and praying that he didn't drop her. She wasn't sure that she'd be able to land on her feet at this angle.

"Thanks, number five."

Pidge groaned. The nickname was catching.

:: ::

Lance was sleeping in. It was what he always did when he had suffered through a bad day previously. He didn't care about announcements over the intercoms (what was this, high school?) or alarms or people knocking on his door. And honestly, there were a lot of said knocks. They usually didn't wake him up, mostly because people on the other side were afraid of him still being upset or whatever. Puh-lease. He had grown out of keeping such grudges when he was twelve.

Although... what Keith had said had hurt, more than Lance cared to admit.

To make sure no one worried, he would have to give the guy a hard time about it for at least a few weeks. It would obviously force a conflict, but... what could he do? Just break character, like an actor having an anxiety attack on stage, and make everyone worry about him? No thanks. He'd rather just sleep in.

And so he slept for what would probably be an unacceptable amount of time to his mama (as well as  _her_  mama, something about the women in Lance's family made them all early risers), past the time when he would wake up in school, past the time when he would wake up at the Garrison, past the time he would wake up on the weekends... past the time when he'd wake up to find the house empty (save for his little sister's pet snake). It was a Saturday tradition for his family to go out grocery shopping at the same time, but they usually left Lance because he was always the one complaining about being woken up. ("Saturdays are for  _sleeping_! That's the whole point! What, so it's so weird for a teenager to sleep a lot?)

Sleeping... sleeping... until he heard a knock unlike the other ones that wove their way into his dreams. It was loud and unapologetic, although dwindled off like the person who had committed the action had suddenly lost confidence.

Lance turned over in his bed, blinking blearily and rubbing the crust from his eyes. Far too many times had his friends had to tell him that he had a big ol' chunk of  _something_  in his eyelashes. He hoped briefly that whoever had knocked would go away, because he wasn't anywhere near done sleeping. For but a moment, he thought that maybe his wish would be granted, but after a long while, the same sort of knock echoed.

Okay. So  _someone_  was hyping themselves up about  _something_ , but was nervous about it. Maybe it was Allura finally confessing her love?

The thought sent Lance to his feet, although his shoulders were hunched and his knees locked without warning. Fitful sleep did that to a guy.

The journey was long and arduous, and threatened life and limb, but he still made it to his door and hit the button that made it slide horizontally to his right. The sound was nearly identical to the one you'd hear from air locks in cheesy 90's movies.

It was not Allura on the other side of the door.

"Keith," Lance grunted in shock, quickly straightening up his wrinkled and twisted t-shirt. He hadn't bothered to sleep properly exfoliated and in a robe like usual, mostly because he had barely gotten out of his paladin armor in time before crashing and burning.

"Lance," said Keith in a tone that suggested the same level of shock as the other boy. He seemed to hardly believe that he was there.

"What... are you doing here?" Lance sighed, running a hand over his face and slumping against the door frame. "I'm not in the mood to start a fight today, sorry."

"No," exclaimed Keith, almost too quickly. "I'm not here to fight."

Lance raised a brow. Really? That was a first.

"Besides, you're always the one starting the arguments," Keith murmured, thanking his lucky stars that Lance had yawned at the same time. He needed to learn to just keep his trap shut. 

_This is why I'm bad at talking._

"I'm here to..." Keith's breath stuck in his throat. "Can I come in?"

Narrowed eyes. Jutted lower lip. Lance was clearly suspicious, and admittedly, he had every reason to be. They never really got on, now, did they?

"Suuure," he muttered, unsure, and stepped to the side.

Keith had expected... well, more from Lance's room. Maybe some flags he had been bestowed with from parades on planets they had saved, or maybe just a few odd bits and ends. But there was nothing. It was almost comparable to Keith's own room, which, for some reason, hurt.

He made a silent mental note to get Lance something for his room. This was just depressing.

"So, what's up?" Lance said, plopping down onto his bed and stretching out his legs. He was always most comfortable when his legs had some wiggle room.

The sound of shifting feet filled the heavy silence between them, and Keith faintly realized that he was tapping the heel of his boot against the ground.

"Well," he began, talking about the lump in his throat, "are you okay?"

Alright. Straight to the point. Quick and dirty. He could deal with that. But Lance was sighing dramatically, preparing to avoid the question. 

"I mean, I didn't get to exfoliating or putting on a face mask last night," he bemoaned, "so I'm probably gonna break out. Not to mention that I got hardcore rejected by this girl the other day. She was really pretty, so I guess I'm more bummed than usual." Keith recognized that as a lie. They hadn't been anywhere but the vacuum of space for about two phoebs now.

Lance was looking in Keith's direction with eyes that were just a bit too awake, and a face that was too neutral. 

"Fine," Keith said, sighing, "if you don't want to tell me what's wrong, that's fine. You can complain to Hunk or something."

He would never admit that he was jealous. Completely, inexplicably, jealous. It was always Hunk, or Shiro, or Allura that Lance was leaning on and being supported by, and it was always everyone else that Lance was supporting.

Did Keith not deserve it? Had he done something wrong? 

But as he stomped as slowly as he dared from Lance's room, hiding the frustration on his face, he didn't notice the crinkle to his brow, or the eyes that were cast downward.

And maybe, just maybe, Lance was a little jealous too.


	3. Chapter 3

Keith's hands were in his hair.

Of course. He was just trying to help, but when the guy he didn't get along with didn't open up right away (what had he been expecting, anyway?) he got frustrated. He really, truly wanted to help, but then got frustrated. Sue him.

Groaning, he rolled onto his stomach, scratching harshly at his scalp.

Lance would never even look at him again without scowling. Why should he? As far as he knew, Keith was unreasonably angry and blew up for no reason. From Lance's perspective, Keith was insane. After all, who does that?

But that way he avoided the question and attempted to deflect onto another topic... That hurt. More than he cared to admit.

God damn, why did Lance have to be so... so... whatever he was! It just wasn't fair to Keith's poor gay heart.

There was a purring question at the edge of his mind, pushing at his thoughts and pushing for attention.

_Paladin? Upset? Okay?_

"I'm  _fine,_ Red," grumbled Keith, sitting up and rolling out of bed. "Just give me a little while to train it off."

There weren't exactly any words in response, but more of a comforting warmth. It was enough assurance for him to untangle his fingers from where they had been tugging at his mullet.

"Thanks, girl. You're the best."

As he left the room, he realized that it was nighttime again.

:: ::

It was another bad night for Lance.

For one, his acne was already acting up from just one night without a face mask. The tiny blemishes on his chin and forehead were the cause of several angry minutes in front of the mirror, just standing and staring. There were no poses, no finger guns, no practice pick-up lines. Just furious staring.

"Stupid, stupid. Never do anything right anyway. What's everyone gonna think? You've lost your mind, obviously, because everyone knows you sleep properly exfoliated after that one time. They'll worry and waste time on you... or maybe they'll just ignore it. No one cares. Certainly not _Keith_ , anyway."

He huffed a dry laugh, turning away from the mirror before he ended up doing something he regretted. It wouldn't be the first time, but he was hoping to avoid that situation again.

"Whatever. I deserve it."

The soft sound of his bare feet sounded in the small room, but besides that, all was silent.

Might as well go walking, since sleep wasn't a great option. Besides, back on Earth, his mom always made him to on a walk when he was upset. Walking equals inner peace (or whatever).

The hallways were dimly lit and empty when he walked into them. Not even the mice were skittering about, as they were probably nestled up for the night in Allura's hair. Lance didn't know what time it was, but he knew that everyone (even Pidge, though she stayed up the latest) was in their rooms if not asleep. Normally he would be, too, but... it was a bad night. There was no other description for it.

Briefly, he remembered Keith turning his back and storming away, but physically forced himself to think other thoughts.

That Princess Allura, right? What a total babe. Or something. Almost as pretty as Keith.

Speak of the devil, and he shall appear. Lance hadn't realized exactly how fast he had been walking, but he supposed long legs didn't hurt. Either way, he soon found himself leaning to one side to poke his head into a doorway, the sound of a struggle reaching his ears. Keith was already slick with sweat, panting heavily and taking only half of a moment to wipe the hair from his face before leaping back into the simulation against the droid. He was clearly trying to stay somewhat quiet, but the occasional grunt or shout escaped anyway.

Lunge, parry, sidestep, swipe. His technique was messy and a mix of all sorts of sword fighting methods, but the way he effortlessly blended them all to suit his needs... well, Lance's face _definitely wasn't_  warm at all.

But then his heart sank. Was he really so low as to drop Allura like she's hot (which she is) and turn to Keith just because he was lonely? Besides, the guy hated him. There was nothing there. Lance was just destined to be awful.

He stepped back from the door, frowning. Then he took another step. And another. Then he was turning and walking away, head low and hands stuffed into his pockets.

Whatever. Nothing new.

 

___

 

Note from the author! I'd like to thank [mewmewzelda](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mewmewzelda22) for some reason leaving 7 kudos on a two chapter story. I couldn't help but laugh, so thank you! This update's for you. <3


	4. 4

The planet of Yuma was a beautiful, tropic one. There were tree-like plants that were twenty feet tall at their shortest, and rivers that seemed to have gold dust sprinkled in it. A later inspection from Pidge showed that it was exactly that. All the plants, aside from the familiar brown tone of the stems and trunks, were colors of orange, red, and yellow. It was unclear whether it was simply from the season, but regardless, the planet, although a bit colder than humans would be used to, was full of warm colors that seemed to light up the sky (which was a contrasting greenish hue).

The people of Yuma were equally stunning. Their skin, covered in peach fuzz, ranged in colors that matched the greenery (ironic, since the greens weren't even green) to tones that were paler and more similar to Keith's infamous pallor. Their eyes were rather large, and their noses seemed a little smaller. Their hands, as the paladins later found out, were incredibly calloused and rough, almost like they went around doing handstands all day. But the part about them that was the most fascinating had to be the wings that sprouted from their shoulder blades. Oh, the _wings_. They were all roughly double the Yuman's arm span, and they came in all sorts of rich, beautiful colors. Some matched the sky, some matched the clouds, and even more were a fiery red that had everyone staring.

The only other red like it was the red that stained the streets of the biggest city on the planet, and a current hub for Galra to hunker down while they milk the planet dry of resources. 

Eldri, a young Yuman, had escaped to tell them all this. Of course, the paladins had been somewhat curious of the small, one man capsule that appeared to be simply hanging in empty space, but when they had towed it in and peeled it open to find a cryo-frozen little girl, with rusty orange skin and slightly darker wings and hair. Tears were still wet on her face, stuck there for who knows how long. Upon further inspection, her unconscious form was found to have what appeared to be scars from a hot whip. Allura and Hunk had nearly been forced to exit the room, their curse of empathy far too strong to imagine such a scenario.

Pidge had been the one to watch over her healing pod when she woke, babbling about someone called Cohr. By the time the rest of the team had rushed to the infirmary, she was sitting on the floor, hands hovering anxiously around her face and chewing on her lip. The blue of her eyes was made noticeable by the tears hovering along the edges. Pidge was gently massaging between her wings and along her spine, which seemed to help her quite a bit.

"Guys," she said, "say hello to Eldri. She's been looking for us."

Eldri was on her feet the moment everyone walked in, although soon sat down again when she got dizzy. Her tattered clothes hung from her frame like a potato sack, and her wings were monstrously clipped short. Even Shiro, the ever-strong leader, had to bite down hard on his lower lip for a moment to compose himself.

"Eldri, welcome to the Castle of Lions. We're the paladins of Voltron. That's Hunk, Lance, Keith, Allura, Coran, and I'm Shiro. You've already met Pidge. Why don't we get you some food, and then you can tell us about why you're here?"

The girl looked to Pidge, almost as if for comfort, and then glanced back to Shiro.

"You... are Voltron? I... yes. Yes. That sounds nice. Nice."

Hunk's eyes, previously wrought with pity for her, were soon filled with fire. "Believe me, you're gonna have the best meal you've ever tasted. I'll be in the kitchen."

Keith glanced over, glad that their friend's antics had brought Lance to a smile. It was a bit more lackluster than usual, but it was a smile all the same.  _He'll be okay._

But Keith still had to apologize for the things he said. Lance feeling a bit better didn't make it okay. He knew that now. Regardless, there were a few other things he and the paladins had to worry about.

He trailed behind everyone else, ahead of only Lance as they exited the room. He felt Red pawing at his conscious.

Okay, it was now or never.

He stopped in the doorway, blocking Lance from going any further but letting everyone else leave. No one noticed, except Allura, who winked at him for some reason.

"Hey, man, what's the hold up? Aren't we going to the kitchen to pamper poor lil' Eldri?"

Keith took a deep breath, lowering his head a bit and letting the door slide closed. Lance couldn't help but notice that the back of his neck was exposed, but forced himself to keep his gaze on Keith's collar. 

"Look," Keith started, turning around and crossing his arms, "I'm sorry."

Apologizing wasn't supposed to make this knot form in his stomach, was it? Keith supposed it was more like boiling liquid, actually, but cold somehow at the same time. Lance was frowning, tilting his weight to one side, effectively making the curve of his hips more prominent. Of course only that could distract Keith from his nerves. 

"Sorry for what?"

Keith shuffled. Uncrossed and recrossed his arms.

"For what I said to you. In the hangar. You... We'd be lost without our sharpshooter. You're plenty good enough, Lance, no matter what I say sometimes."

Keith was looking at his feet, too nervous to see the other's reaction. It'd make sense for him to give some sort of cold remark and walk away, because Keith pretty much had done the exact same thing to him. In fact, Keith expected it.

"Oh, thanks! Appreciate it, bud."

Lance didn't take it seriously, because how could you when it's an apology from a guy who doesn't mean it? No one would apologize from Lance for something he deserved, anyway.

And Keith realized, as Lance gave him a flippant pat on the shoulder and walked away, that this was much beyond a simple slip of the tongue. Lance couldn't be fixed with a small set of words, because Keith hadn't been the one to break him in the first place.

He just added to the cracks.


	5. 5

Eldri, despite being no bigger than Pidge (well, maybe a bit taller, but just as thin), wolfed down her food like no tomorrow. Hunk had made enough food for everyone, but most of them had decided to give the avian their meal after seeing her pleading look. Even Lance, who normally hoarded the meals Hunk made like he was a dragon and it was his treasure, pushed a good chunk of his food toward her. 

When Eldri had finally finished, she seemed much more rejuvenated, if not still a little battered. She was leaning against the back of her seat, hands thrown across her stomach and clipped wings stretched out on either side of her. Lance could only imagine how long it had been since she had been allowed to spread them properly.

"So, so," she chirped, "I'll get right down to it. The Irdlin, which translates literally to 'purple people' but you lot call them Galra, took over my planet about twelve Spicolian Movements before my hatch-day two years ago. At first we didn't really mind that much. At first. I mean, we were angry, of course, of course, but... it wasn't that bad. We had food, and freedom, and we were relatively unharmed save for the initial attack. It started to get worse, though, worse. Yumans starting going missing left and right, left and right. No one knew where they went, but the numbers were so few that we told ourselves not to worry about it. The Irdlin would hurt us if we tried anything anyway, anyway."

Now, Eldri pulled her wings in close again, leaning forward in her seat and staring at the floor. "But then they took Cohr. My baby brother. Little brother--baby brother."

Hunk, who had previously been smothered by the clipped remnants of her primaries, leaned over to put a hand on her shoulder. Pidge kneeled at her side and continued where she had left off in giving the avian a massage. Eldri visibly relaxed, sending a watery eyed look to the both of them.

"Thank you. Thank you. But-" she wiped at her eyes, "-there's no time for crying. I need to finish.

"He went to go buy us food from the market. You know, ingredients for my favorite soup that" she made a strange sound that couldn't be replicated by humans, "was going to make me. Oh, wait, wait, you don't know that word. You call them mother? Anyway. Anyway. He never came back. A week passed, and we were beginning to give up hope. It's terrible, terrible, but... we were already adjusting to life without him. But then I got taken, too."

Eldri shivered, full bodied and violent like she was trying to physically shake the memories away.

"They... plucked my wings. Plucked them. It hurt so bad. Days of travel, but no flying. No food, no water. After a while, I couldn't even think straight anymore. I was an animal. Eventually, though, we reached the capital. It was  _different_. I went there, once, when I was a fledgling, but it wasn't like this. There was blood and dirt and so many feathers. So many.

"They didn't put me in the same division as Cohr. I was put with all girls. We had to cut our hair clean off our heads, and report in once a week to have our wings plucked, or we'd be whipped. For a while, we didn't even do anything. Anything. But then a few weeks passed, and we were told to-"

Eldri swallowed. "Told to eat. Break our bodies, they said, or they'd break our minds. And I kind of like my mind, so I decided 'no thanks.' I didn't even know how eating would break our bodies. We ate for weeks, months, I don't know... we didn't know why. Why. All we knew was that if you broke the rules, or tried to fly... more whipping. Our wings would cramp from misuse so badly that many people had to stay in the pen and skip meals. They were punished for missing stuffing."

Pidge, who had been looking rather green, attempted to steer the conversation to a less traumatizing subject.

"What were you eating for?"

Ildri shook her head, staring sightlessly at a scar that snaked all the way around her wrist. Cuffs. "We didn't know. Some people thought it was poison testing for the troops. Others thought the food had mind control serum in it. They were all wrong. All of them.

"They were  _eating_  us."

Even Shiro's face went pale. Allura looked like she was on the verge of tears, as were Hunk, Pidge, and Lance. Keith merely looked at the floor, his heart twisting for the poor little Yuman. Eldri herself just looked worn, battered by the harsh winds of her life that she had been forced to endure.

"They knew--do know--that we're sentient. We talk to them, beg them to stop, so why...? Why?"

Eldri took a breath, wiped at her face, then looked up.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have... it could be worse. Worse. Anyways, we have to go back! You have to take me back. Please,  _please_ , I need to find Cohr!"

Shiro didn't even need to check with everyone else. He already knew the answer.

"What system is Yuma in?"


	6. 6

The travel to Yuma was too close to wormhole, but too far to get there anytime within the same day. So, as a result, Eldri got some time to rest and to get to know the renowned paladins of Voltron.

But two of them always seemed to be missing. Never at the same time, which was even more confusing. It was always either the red paladin (Keith) that was gone, or it was the blue one (Lance). Eldri noticed that whenever they looked at each other without the other knowing, it was with a passion, simmering below the surface but still very much present. So, why did the two of them look so sad?

The day after waking up, the paladins, Alteans, and Eldri were seated on the couches, comfortable and laughing. Blue and Red only spared a few smiles here and there, but Eldri realized that it was normal.

"You know, I'm actually surprised that Lance hasn't attempted to woo the new lady on board," Pidge admitted in a beat of silence. Everyone turned to look at the blue paladin, who was leaning back in his seat with his hands in his lap. He looked up from where he had been picking at his palm.

"Huh?"

"That is a good question. Normally, he'd try to flirt with a dead Blorgfrepth."

"Can you guys stop talking about me like I'm not here?"

"And, admittedly, Eldri is pretty."

At this, the avian interjected.

"Ah, w-wait, back up. What do you mean, 'a dead Blorgfrepth?' He hasn't said hardly a word since I got here!"

Lance looked down, as well as Keith, but everyone else gave her strange looks.

"What are you talking about? He never shuts up."

"Yes, didn't you hear when he was jabbering on about..." Allura paused. "Come to think of it, he really hasn't jabbered, has he?"

Once again, everyone was looking at Lance, but now his face was turning red and he was avoiding any and all contact.

"I'm fine, guys, really. Just drop it. Um... how long to Yuma?"

Keith leaned back in his seat, eyes narrowed and fixed directly on Lance. The last time he had heard someone avoid a question like that, the kid doing the avoiding had killed himself two weeks later. So when Shiro gave Lance a worried look, but then moved on, he felt his blood run cold. 

He could never let himself be the one to find a body again. Not ever.

Lance stood from his seat, making a feeble excuse of getting a glass of water before turning and leaving the room. Keith didn't wait even a second before following hot on his heels. Hunk made a move to get up and follow, but Eldri reached out, gripping at his fingers.

"Don't. They have something they need to resolve."

Hunk chewed nervously on his lip, but slowly sank back down into his seat.

: :

Keith was worried before, but it was nothing compared to the sharp, panicked pain he felt when Lance wouldn't even look at him. Despite the hallway being completely empty and without decoration, he seemed to find the floor more interesting than anything.

"Just tell me what's going on," Keith implored, crossing his arms. He felt small, but Lance looked smaller, what with his shoulders hunched and head angled toward the floor. Even his hands, which were normally placed confidently on his hips (they accentuated his curves, but psh, Keith never noticed that, totally), were timidly playing with each other.

"It's nothing," Lance insisted. 

"Bull _shit_ ," snipped Keith, leaning forward. "You've been off for  _weeks._  I'm blind as a bat emotionally, and even I can see that."

Lance sniffed incredulously. "How can you say that about yourself? Keith, buddy, you're-"

"Lance."

"-actually a lot more supportive than you seem to think. I dunno what-"

" _Lance_."

"-Shiro, not to mention the rest of us, would have done without you. I mean-"

"Lance, would you _shut up_ for a second?"

Those were the wrong words, Keith realized milliseconds later. Lance's face had closed up, carefully blank save for a neutral smile on his face. It was terrifying, and god, Keith hated that smile, because it was a lie, and he had no idea what was going on underneath.

"Okay," the blue paladin said easily, then turned on his heel and began walking away.

Keith stood, stunned, with nothing but the sound of his own regrets and retreating footsteps singing in his ears.

"Wait- Lance. C'mon, I didn't mean it like that-"

Lance snatched his arm away from Keith's grabbing hand, turning sad and angry eyes to the red paladin.

"No. I know exactly how you meant it."

And for the second time, Lance was walking away.

Keith was growing tired of seeing Lance's back.


End file.
